


unnamed.

by misswritingobsessed



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt, F/M, episode tag: 7.01, hinted romance - Freeform, thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29270742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misswritingobsessed/pseuds/misswritingobsessed
Summary: Ros tried to remember the cover story as she pushed her emotions down. Her return was supposed to be a small moment of happiness, not the blank white walls and the rolling headlines she was faced with.
Relationships: Adam Carter/Ros Myers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	unnamed.

**Author's Note:**

> Never written for Spooks before, but I’ve become a tiny bit obsessed with Ros and Adam. After watching that episode I decided to write something, of course, changing the outcome! I’m absolutely terrified of uploading this, and I know I’m years too late to this fandom, but here’s my attempt at writing something a little au and half decent.
> 
> Any and all mistakes are mine. I hope it's not awful - if it is, then I shall make it disappear. Enjoy.

An unnamed Good Samaritan, is what the breaking news said. The headline rolled on the bottom of the screen while experts and correspondents gave updates on the situation. An unnamed man saw a bomb in the back of a car and drove it to the middle of an empty square. She didn’t know who would believe it, but that wasn’t her concern. 

Ros felt sick. The cover story Harry had told her on a loop in her mind. Lucas was just out of sight but she knew he was there. 

Did she care at that moment? No. 

The doctors were doing all they could, when were they not?

She had a fleeting thought of Adam’s son, an innocent little boy who could lose both of his parents before he turned ten. 

She forced herself to go cold, a coping mechanism from her childhood that served her well in her job. But there was still a hint of humanity in her, of kindness, of caring, of love. She wasn’t about to let anyone else see that, not now and certainly not here, but it was there.

She needed him to be okay. 

His little boy needed him to be okay. 

The team, they needed him to be okay. 

Good Samaritan. Stroke of luck. Doctors doing their best. Good Samaritan. Stroke of luck. Doctors doing their best. Good Samaritan. Stroke of luck. Doctors doing their best. Good - 

“Here,” Her thoughts stopped as Lucas spoke, holding a coffee cup in front of her face. 

“Thank you.” She took it off him. She wouldn’t drink it though. 

She didn’t know him well enough. 

“He’s strong, he’ll pull through.” He sat down next to her. 

“We don’t have to talk. Especially if you can’t come up with anything original to say.” 

Out the corner of her eye she saw the corners of his mouth turn up.

“Harry said you weren’t exactly warm and fluffy.” 

Ros raised an eyebrow. They were definitely two words she never wanted attached to her name.

She glanced up at the TV again. It was the same. The delayed subtitles read the same thing - the only thing the journalists, and the country knew. A bomb had been planted at a Remembrance Day ceremony and a Good Samaritan had risked his life to drive the car away and had been caught in the blast. The doctors were doing all they could, he was alive. For now. 

Ros closed her eyes for a moment. She hated that ‘for now’. 

Eventually they had to leave. They had work to do. 

A part of her hated it, walking out of that waiting room, walking out without any information but it needed to be done. She refused to let herself be seen any different from the woman she was before. She was still the ice queen, even if her heart was showing tiny signs of cracking because of the day’s events.

The coffee Lucas handed her went in the trash as she walked, with a face like thunder, out of the white room with the rolling headlines and the over polite receptionist and back to the place she’d left. A place that suited her.

“He’ll recover.” Harry’s words only barely caught her attention as she walked past his office door hours later.

Turning on her heels she stayed silent.

“He has burns, some more severe than others. But, he will recover. No one has been to see him yet. His parents want to wait a little longer before they take Wes, it’ll be hard for him to see his dad like that. Maybe you should go.” 

Ros nodded at the suggestion, at all of it.

He was alive. His son had a father. It would be a shock. Did she want to see him? 

Did he want to see her? 

Ros took his hand. Her actions were slow and gentle, two things she wasn’t. Or at least wasn’t in the world outside his hospital room. 

All the movies she’d seen, books she’d read, stories she’d heard told her how the hearing was usually still there even when a person was unconscious. She didn’t want to speak. She wanted him to feel comforted but a part of her didn’t want him to know it was her.

He could have met someone in the time she’d been away. He could have cursed her name, he could hate her. 

Stroking the back of his hand with her thumb she let herself smile, he was alive, thank god.

Good Samaritan. Stroke of luck. Doctors doing their best.

Their best was good enough, and she was thankful. 

“I could have lost you today.” She whispered. “Now, I know how you must have felt months ago.” 

The situation was different, but the emotions, she assumed, would be the same. 

Clearing her throat she stayed for a few minutes longer. Letting herself just be. Letting herself really take in the fact he was alive.

Really let it sink in that maybe, just maybe they’d get some kind of twisted second chance in the world they lived in. 

To the world, an unnamed Good Samaritan, who went above and beyond.

To Ros, a man who brought out the emotions in her. She nearly lost him. She felt fear. She hated that. Yet she loved him. Adam. 

As she walked out of the hospital, she caught sight of the TV she’d been watching earlier.

Unnamed Good Samaritan survives. 

She let herself smile a little. Cover story still in the back of her mind in case anyone asked. Heart settled knowing a little boy wouldn’t be orphaned today. Lucas came into her field of vision as she reached the car.

“Does this mean you're capable of emotion?” 

She looked at him, face neutral, expression almost unreadable.

“Depends on who you ask.” 

Getting in the car, she forced herself to go cold again, she had a job to do. Find out who planted the explosives. Find out why an unnamed Good Samaritan almost died.  _ Almost.  _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it wasn't awful. I would love to hear what you thought about it :)


End file.
